


Drove Off With My Heart

by CuteCat213



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: F/M, M/M, Romance, Song-inspired (two excerpts), Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:58:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2717984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteCat213/pseuds/CuteCat213
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, so Seifer is an idiot, he can admit to that -now- but Squall is just as much at fault for taking his previous words so seriously. Regardless of the whys, the blonde isn't letting Squall get away so easily, even if he has to chase him across the map.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And here I am once again assaulted by FFVIII plot bunnies. I seem to have permanently connected Christmas with this fandom, as the last christmas one-shot I wrote was also FFVIII; hmm...
> 
> I wonder-if-you-can\challenge-you-to figure out the inspiring song I wrote this to. Good luuuck~

Seifer lifted his head from his pillow with a groan at the damned pale morning light that dared to pour in through the open blinds covering the window. His memory of the night before was foggy at best and not helped by the persistent ringing of the cursed alarm clock blaring around the room he'd rented for well over the month he'd originally intended to now.

More than the things around annoying him, he noticed more the  _lack_  of something that should have been there. Sobriety fighting against his inebriation making the pounding in his skull ever worse, the blonde pushed himself up and looked around the room, seeing signs of habitation he always left- and nothing else. No black boots by the door, no fur-collared leather jacket over the back of one of the dining room chairs. His partner was neat, clean- fastidious, even- but not like  _this_.

"Squall?"

Wincing at the pain even his own voice caused at the- well, it wasn't actually early, but dammit, it  _felt_  like it. Where had the dour man gotten to? Seifer never failed to wake up shortly after Squall left for whatever, it was as if his body could sense the lack of the other man's presence and objected to it by seeking it out.

In the back of his pounding brain, alarms louder than the fucking clock were blaring at him. He got up properly, a swipe of his hand silencing -permanently- the annoying bit of machination. The place hadn't looked so completely bare since the day he'd gotten there.  _What the hell did I do last night?_

He dug into the side table for the aspirin he kept there for times exactly like this and swallowed them dry, racking his mind for the desired information. He could kinda remember calling Squall to come pick his drunk ass up, a minor scuffle over actually handing over his keys, time missing that he assumed was the drive, then being dragged inside. There'd been another tumble and somehow he'd ended up on top of Squall and- fuck.

With his mind starting to clear up from the fuzziness and aching, he spotted the note on the opposite endtable, stomach tightening with apprehension and his hand shaking as he reached out to pick it up, the damning words glaring back at him from Squall's elegant and small -economic- script. His own words echoed back at him and made him wince.

_You've had time to think about it. You're not looking for anything permanent here._

The blonde let out an explosive sigh and ran his hand through his hair, "Dammit, Squall." He  _had_  said those very things- and more- when he'd first surprisingly found the brunette out here in the middle of nowhere. It had been strangely easy to fall in together, rivals and friends and always at each other's throats- and at each other's backs. One good bar brawl had cemented things.

And like the idiot he was always called, Seifer had poured out all his vitriol to Squall, stating with the conviction of a drunk man that he'd given up on all things romance and the only thing he'd settle for was a one-night fuck from then on. Squall had asked him -in that implying tone of voice that had completely gone over his head at the time- if he'd stay for something more substantial than that if he found it here, and Seifer, unthinking moron he could now fully admit to being, had said negligently he'd think about it, never imagining he'd find anything worth staying here for.

Six months later, he was still here, because  _Squall_  was here- or he had been, until Seifer'd once again fucked everything up. One hand harshly slapping his cheek at what an utter idiot he'd been, the blonde stood up and looked out the window to see exactly what he'd been suspecting, the black motorcycle was long gone, and Squall with it. Seifer's own truck- which had  _started_  out as a 'project' vehicle just to keep him from getting bored, was his pride and joy. He'd lost count of the hours he and Squall had spent on that thing, finally realizing he was never getting rid of it, and both of them being young and and wondrously idiots for the day, had dubbed their babies Lion Heart and Hyperion.

Eyes dropping from the window, he saw his keys laying accusingly on the floor where they'd probably fallen or been flung when he'd fallen on Squall. He picked up the keys and was half-way out the door before he realized he'd moved. He paused only for a moment to remember he was  _still_  pretty much living out of his truck and wasn't leaving anything too important behind before he closed the door behind him and headed for the front desk.

"Squall Leonhart."

The desk manager looked up at him and blinked, "Turned in his key this morning."

That was all the more he needed to know to confirm everything he feared. Seifer tossed his own room key at the manager and was out the door before the smaller man could comment, Hyperion's door slamming closed with the key already in the ignition and the blonde turning it before the slam resounded. He knew better than most anyone exactly how far and fast Squall could run when he was of a mind to: he didn't have a second to spare as he threw the truck into drive and headed into town.

Seifer didn't bother shutting off the engine when he reached the diner, simply throwing his faithfully abused vehicle in park before heading inside. From behind the counter, Selphie caught sight of him and sniffed disdainfully before purposefully turning away and going to play waitress. Irvine looked up from stocking something behind the counter and gave a confused face at not seeing his wife where she'd been just a moment before. Then  _he_  saw Seifer, too, and sighed, adjusting his hat and leaning on the counter, "Wondered how long it'd take ya to get here."

The blonde didn't waste any time, "How long has it been? Do you know which way he went?"

The retired sharpshooter looked around for Selphie before turing back to him, "Couple hours: maybe three- he came in just as we were opening up. Spoke with me an' Selph- upset her to hell of course: she was hoping he'd finally settled down this time, but when he said he had to get away, well... there was no denyin' who he was runnin' from."

"Shit."

"What'd ya do this time?"

"I was an idiot: I'll fix it. Now  _do you know_?"

Another sigh, another check to make sure his wife wouldn't geld him for even speaking to the blonde, and Irvine leaned over the counter, Seifer not hesitating to lean in to hear, "Squall and Selph traded a few words when she asked. Now you did  _not_  hear this from me, but Matron's got that little place out near Tear's Point..."

Seifer nodded and was out the door before the russet-haired man could finish speaking. Of course Squall would take time out to go visit Matron when his life was once again falling apart. Within moments, the blonde was back on the road, not looking forward to the long drive ahead of him as he raced to catch up with Squall.

As the miles stretched before and behind him, Seifer cursed himself for the idiot Squall always called him. It wasn't like he'd been blind to how close they'd been getting over the months, in fact he'd been  _counting_  on it, but he was reminded sharply of Squall's well-deserved title of ice queen; of _course_  the brunet was never going to be the one to initiate anything. He'd practically handed the blonde an invitation to try it himself, though, and Seifer hadn't even seen it until he'd fucked up his chance.

Then instead of sitting down like an  _adult_  and explaining things with Squall, he'd gotten his fool self drunk off his ass and thrown himself at the brunet for what Squall had obviously thought as a dual rejection and one-night stand.

It took a great deal of self restraint to keep from hitting his head against the steering wheel. He really had thought he'd gotten over the bad habit of acting before he thought things through after the war- obviously he still needed to work on that.

They both had things to work on. As soon as he caught up with Squall, he was going to sit the flighty man down and have a  _long_  talk about  _feelings_ , even if it left Squall with his head tilted like a puppy hearing a high-pitched noise. And they were going to discuss  _talking_  about their problems instead of assuming things and taking off cross-country to avoid said problems. Hmm, maybe that's a talk they should have had when Seifer had first run into Squall here; save them both a lot of trouble. How many of the issues throughout their lives would have been better handled if they'd just said something?

Seifer sighed and ran a finger across the scar on his face that mirrored Squall's, his other hand tightening on the steering wheel, "From now on, when we get into a physical fight over an argument, we're going to sit down and still  _talk_  about that argument after the fight is over, too."


	2. Chapter 2

Paying for the gas, Seifer also pulled out the photograph of his target, "Seen this guy go through here?" He  _knew_  he was on the right track: every time he stopped he was answered with positive results and heartening descriptions of less and less time having elapsed with each sighting.

The first time had nearly given him a heart attack, though, when the girl at the counter hadn't seen Squall at all. That had required the blonde to call Quistis over cable and beg for alternate directions to Tear's Point from his position. It had taken a humbling amount of pathetic begging and pleading before she'd unbent enough to help him, and only  _that_  at the end of the most -correction, second-most- debasing conversation he'd ever had.

_"Quistis, there's no one else. Squall's the one and only- it's over, that's it."_

_"Seifer Almasy, settling down, admitting he cares for someone else?"_

_"Yes, what an auspicious day for you, Instructor: getting to see the Great Asshole admitting he actually gives a damn about someone else more than himself. Are you done making fun of me yet?"_

_"I'm not sure, this is almost too good a chance to pass up."_

_Seifer was through messing around, and if his humiliation was what it took to get her help, so be it. "Quisty, I really need your help here." The line was silent, and he told her, loudly, clearly, and without a lick of regret: "I'm committed, I'm in love, and I'm desperate." Quistis gasped over the line and Seifer pushed on, "Squall's a good way gone but I'm closing the gap. You know what a stubborn bastard I am: if I have to I'll chase him clear across the map. With or without your help."_

The station attendant's laugh startled the blonde as he looked out the window at Hyperion's rusted exterior, "Good luck catching-up in that bucket of rust."

"What?"

He received a grin in response and a tumb pointing outside, "Just follow that cloud of dust in the distance, there."

Looking out the window, the blonde's heart soared at seeing the dust cloud in the headed for the horizon.  _Found you!_  He tossed more than enough Gil to cover the cost of the fuel and was out the door, the attendant's laugh chasing him the whole way as he kicked Hyperion into high gear and pushed the old truck as hard as he could.

The tightness in his chest didn't lessen at all as the dust cloud out in front of him slowly took on the form of Lion Heart devouring the sandy road before it. Okay, so maybe Seifer  _had_  been aware of Squall's invitation before. Maybe he hadn't been as decisive as he should have been.

His fingers tightened around the wheel. He wouldn't make that mistake again. Squall wasn't going to be left in limbo anymore, waiting and wondering if he was wanted. Assuming Squall didn't punch him outright for his 'presumptuous assholery' in the first place. He almost looked forward to it. And if Squall didn't believe him... he'd just have to follow him until he did.

Incredulous silver eyes glanced over at him from a face eternally frozen in an emotionless mask, but Seifer knew the wide-eyed look was Squall's version of open-mouthed astonishment. Eased back on the throttle, Lion Heart slowed down and Seifer matched it until they were side by side in stillness. Squall looked wary, but shut off the bike nonetheless, watching distrustfully as the blonde stepped from his truck and closed the door.

Before anything else, Seifer held out his hand, "Keys." Squall gave him in incredulous look that only made him waggle his fingers, "You aren't running off again until we sort a few things out, Squall. Keys." He offered Hyperion's in exchange.

With a close-mouthed sigh, the brunet handed them over, plucking the others from Seifer's other hand, "Whatever." But he put down the kickstand and swung his leg over so he was merely leaned against the cycle instead of perched to shoot off at any moment.

"So aside from leaving without proper notice, I thought it only right to let you know you left something behind when you took off."

Squall was silent, baiting him to go on by not speaking in a way that had never failed to piss him off when he was younger. But Seifer had developed a lot of patience since then, and long hours-days-months spent with Squall had made him wise to all of the other scarred man's tricks. And Squall knew it, too. Considering that Seifer was the instigator here- and had his keys- Squall gained nothing by dragging the conversation out... except sunburn and the increased chance for heatstroke.

Finally with a sigh and roll of eyes the color of the gunblades they both hadn't touched since the war, the brunet spoke, "And what would that be?"

Seifer stepped closer, in a way that in his youth he'd thought of as intimidating- except it had never intimidated Squall, and still didn't, he was happy to note- and smirked widely, "Me, of course."

He watched the smaller male lose balance as he tried to retreat and was caught by Lion Heart behind him. Squall glared up at the blonde warily, "I don't know what you're-"

"Thinking? I'm  _thinking_  that for always telling me to think before I act, you left without so much as a goodbye."

"I-"

"Left a note." Seifer pulled out said note from his pocket and showed it to him, "Two sentences, and still not one goodbye in the whole thing."

The brunet scowled up at him, "You're an idiot."

"That I am." silver eyes blinked blankly at him, astounded he'd admitted it, "And so are you." ah,  _there_  was the infamous Ice-Bitch stare he'd almost missed, "I was an idiot pouring out my relationship issues  _six months ago_ , and  _you_  Squally, are the idiot that took a drunk man's words as gospel."

More blinking, but those eyes had taken on that far-away look Squall got when he was thinking things through and wasn't going to make a move until he had more information. Emotions were not Squall's strong point by anyone's measure, and he wasn't about to risk everything on the chance he was wrong in a situation he had far too little control over.

Seifer sighed, but had really expected that and went on, "I know you enjoy directness, so let me put this as simply as I can." he leaned forward, green and gray clashing, then shocked Squall completely by kissing him, easily slipping between lips slack in shock.

There was a gratifyingly long moment of boneless surrender before the brunet seemed to remember he'd been upset and wary just seconds before and tore himself away, expression for once completely open- and completely baffled, "What...?"

Seifer smirked at him, "If that wasn't clear enough, let me put it another way." he thought about the best way to phrase it for a second, then in the most solemn voice he could muster, he said: "You're stuck with me." Squall blinked up at him and he expounded, "If you run away again, I'll follow you." when that still didn't seem to get through to him, Seifer growled and shook Squall by the shoulders until the brunet brushed him off with a frown, "Squall, we've always been the ones closest to each other our entire lives. Rivals, friends, enemies; there's never been anyone else that could possibly measure up. If you think I'm giving up  _now_ , when I've got you- when you made me realize that you're not only everything I've chased after, but everything I didn't even know I always wanted, you're as naive as Laguna."

The leather-clad man glared at being compared to his father, "You said-"

"I've said a lot of things in my life, are you going to hold me to all of them? I don't know what else to do here to get the point across, Squall. I-"

The blonde was cut off when the collar of his shirt was grabbed and tugged, his attention going to the hand and arm responsible for the action: even without training and using their gunblades, all those hours spent lifting heavy parts and working on their vehicles had kept them both in shape. Squall's hand fisted tighter in the material and pulled him down, "Stop talking." before kissing him back.

Seifer smirked into the connection, not knowing -not caring- what had finally convinced Squall that he'd been telling the truth. The feel of the sun beating down on them made them break away sooner than he liked, but out in the blazing heat wasn't the place for what he wanted to do anyway. He smiled down at the brunet, the wary look still there, and knew his next words would be the most important ones. If he mocked Squall or said the wrong thing, everything else would have been for nothing. But he was painfully sober now and knew the brunet-  _his_ brunet- well enough to know exactly what to say.

So he stepped back and pointed towards Hyperion, "Come on, help me get Lion Heart loaded up."

The tension left Squall's shoulders and he nodded, face relaxing from the wariness he'd had since Seifer had pulled up along side him to the calm, more-open-than-neutral expression that Sefier had learned to savor in the last six months. They got Lion Heart in loaded up in the bed and Seifer closed the tail gate, watching in surprise as Squall crawled into the driver's side seat.

"Squall?"

He spotted the brunet's smirk in the mirror, "I'm driving."

Green eyes blinked, "But... It's my truck."

Squall's silence -and lack of moving- spoke volumes, and Seifer sighed before slipping into the passenger seat as Squall started Hyperion up. He glanced out across the seemingly endless distance, "So where are you driving us, anyway?" He didn't mind if they didn't head back; he honestly wasn't really looking forward to getting chewed out by Selphie if they returned.

Squall put the truck in drive before looking at him, "Do you care?"

Sensing the test for what it was, Sefier grinned at him, "Not a bit, so long as you're there."

The brunet didn't reply verbally, but Seifer didn't miss one of Squall's rare small-but-genuine smiles as he stepped on the pedal and took them off for parts unknown. And really, it was all the answer he needed.


End file.
